


dark purple sky (darkness comes out to play)

by knlalla



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Blow Jobs, Halloween, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, Strangers to Lovers, Tension, again v vaguely, i mean vaguely lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 11:07:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16474394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knlalla/pseuds/knlalla
Summary: It’s not that he hates parties, it’s just that- well, no, he hates parties. And costumes. And showing up to parties in costumes, and showing up to parties decidedly not wearing costumes, and all the mumbled judgements that come along with doing so. And he hates sweets - really, the only things he does like about Halloween are the autumnal vibes and the cool weather, and experiencing those certainly did not require his friends dragging him out to some abandoned castle grounds for a half-assed late-night party.Or the one where Dan gets a blowjob from a complete stranger in the middle of the forest on Halloween.





	dark purple sky (darkness comes out to play)

**Author's Note:**

> fic title based on dark purple sky ([x](https://open.spotify.com/track/2TRwracXe0zy5zs9s2BhHC?si=z49u61A8QlaMpmMHiPTM-A)) and she came ([x](https://open.spotify.com/track/5opKFgHBrsdBIYPLlwG2T7?si=qSjRP71eTjOOo5PX1qlAFQ)) both of which also inspired the vibes i went for in the fic

Dan can still hear the music in the distance, in spite of the wall of trees he’s placed between himself and the party - it’s not that he hates parties, it’s just that- well, no, he hates parties. And costumes. And showing up to parties in costumes, and showing up to parties decidedly _not_ wearing costumes, and all the mumbled judgements that come along with doing so. And he hates sweets - really, the only things he _does_ like about Halloween are the autumnal vibes and the cool weather, and experiencing those certainly did _not_ require his friends dragging him out to some abandoned castle grounds for a half-assed late-night party. 

He’s got a bloody park across the street from his flat, for god’s sake.

But at least he’s managed to leave the too-loud music and the too-drunk partygoers and the too-gaudy, too-skimpy costumes behind him, somewhere back down the meandering dirt path he’s been wandering on. Frankly, he’s not been paying much attention, but he figures he’s only gone in one direction, and the party is loud enough behind him that he can _surely_ find his way back without too much trouble. Plus, he’s still got-

He lets out a curse under his breath as he pats one pocket, then the other, then shoves his hands in them as deep as they’ll go - but they come up empty, his phone most likely squished between the seats of the van they’d taken out here. With a loud, low exhale, he spins on a heel and sets off toward the utter bullshit of a social situation he’d intended to leave behind for a while.

It’s only once the music fades to near-nothingness that Dan bothers looking up properly, trying to take in his surroundings - the dark amber and black hues of the forest don’t look all that familiar, but it’s not like he’d been focused on them on the way out here. Besides, they’ve all been cast into dark purple shadows now that the light of the day has faded into evening. Dan’s mostly certain it’s not all _that_ late into the night yet, but a glance up at the sky begs to differ, and sparks of stars wink back at him from off-black tapestries hidden behind gauzy covers of cloud.

A brisk wind hits him, then, cutting right through the thin - but attractive and, more importantly, _black_ \- material of his jumper; he’s glad nobody’s around to see the ensuing shiver, especially not Chris with his insistence that Dan should’ve worn something a little warmer because they’d be _out all night, Dan, and you’re gonna freeze your ass off, that thing’s practically see-through._

And Dan, stubborn as he is, had argued he’d be _fine_ , steadfastly refused the offered jacket both at his flat and in the van once they’d arrived, and then made a point of rolling up his damn sleeves the second they’d stepped outside. That had earned him a raised brow and a shrug, which he’d taken as a victory.

He rolls the sleeves back down now, tugging the ends over his hands for added warmth, and inhales an icy breath. When he exhales, it comes out as a cloud, and he’s left cursing his need for aesthetics and for always being right.

“Lost?” A voice asks behind him; he whirls around, nerves tingling at the edge of his skin and ears primed to search for the source of the party’s barely-audible music - he thinks it might be back the way he’d just come, or maybe that’s wishful thinking. At least he could still _hear it_ back that way.

“Out for a walk,” Dan shrugs as he responds and attempts his best nonchalant, casual look, crossing his arms over his chest while he begs his eyes to adjust to the darkness enough to pick out the source of the voice - at the moment, all he can see are shifting shadows, shades of black and muted gold and deep red that all blend together.

“Are you.” It’s not a question, the tone low and curt, and if Dan had any visibility at all, he’s sure he’d see a smirk on the face of this mystery person - probably a guy, if their voice is anything to go by, but that’s the best he can do. He still can’t fucking _see_ them.

“I- yeah, I am,” Dan answers the non-question anyway. Out of nowhere, the shadows solidify - or, Dan reasons, his eyes have finally adjusted - and a guy steps forward; Dan takes a stumbled step back, swallowing his gasp before it can give away his fear. He clearly can’t go back the way he came, not now that the guy’s stood there blocking his path; the other direction suddenly feels quite appealing.

Bright, wild eyes stare at him from under dark and even _wilder_ hair. It’s all shades of black that contrast with the pale skin that extends down under the collar of a rather uneventfully normal-looking jumper - Dan can’t quite tell the color, what with the lack of lighting, but it’s some shade between the guy’s eyes and his hair, and he supposes-

He _supposes_ he should probably not be so focused on the fucking appearance of a random stranger in the middle of the forest and maybe be a little _more_ focused on finding his way back to civilization, or as close to it as one could consider a group of drunk twenty-somethings.

“And I really ought to be getting back, they’ll be- uh, expecting me…” Dan trails off, taking another step back as the guy steps forward. In spite of the situation - and every alarm bell in the back of Dan’s head going off - Dan finds himself not nearly as terrified as he thinks he should be, given this guy could go full axe-murderer on him at any moment. And in spite of the guy only getting closer, Dan suddenly feels far less inclined to turn tail and run. It’s not like the guy’s _done_ anything, _threatened_ him in any way. 

And, if Dan’s being entirely honest with himself, the guy’s actually pretty cute. And not far off his age.

An unsettling feeling tickles the edges of his mind, something about maybe not immediately crushing on a cute guy who could potentially kill him without anyone ever finding out, but he shoves it aside and tilts his head at the guy.

“Are _you_ having trouble finding your way back to the party?” He hopes he sounds every bit as cocky and casual as he most certainly isn’t, but the guy just grins at him and he really can’t tell if he’s pulled it off or not.

“I think I’ve found what I came for,” the guy says, his gaze raking Dan’s body in the dim light; Dan’s left swallowing for a completely different reason, now, his throat suddenly dry and void of any clever words. His breath comes in far-too-fast gasps as the guy gets closer, and leaves crunch under his shoes as he lets himself be backed against the wide trunk of a tree.

The guy stops just short of Dan’s chest, though, and Dan’s surprised to find they’re essentially matched in height - if anything, Dan’s perhaps a hair taller, though he certainly doesn’t feel it. He feels quite _small_ , actually, and very unsure of what might happen next - oddly, he’s not _concerned_ , more curious than anything, though he reasons he really ought to have a healthy dose of fear coursing through his bloodstream right about now.

Instead, it’s heat that floods his veins, turning his skin warm and setting his cheeks on fire as the guy’s eyes drift over Dan again - they’re focused on his face this time, and Dan lets his gaze fall to the side, chewing at his lip just to have something to focus on aside from being _watched_ like this.

A hand finds its way into Dan’s line of sight, then, and he jerks back into the tree on instinct - his head smacks against the bark, not hard but enough to make him grimace.

The guy pauses, though, and Dan watches his mouth tug down in a frown and his brows furrow together in an unexpected look of concern. The hand stays poised there, though, just an inch away from touching Dan’s cheek. 

“I’m sorry,” the guy’s tone has turned soft, and his lips purse for a moment before he continues. “I really should’ve asked, I can take you back to your party, if you’d rather-”

“No!” Dan’s throat betrays him - his utter hatred for social gatherings, his curiosity, his _eagerness_ \- and he only has a second to curse it before the guy’s eyes widen, before his lips part just slightly. And Dan suddenly wants nothing more than to taste those lips, to see if they’re as dark and delicious as they look. Admittedly, Dan’s not entirely sure what ‘ _dark and delicious_ ’ is meant to taste like, but he has a good feeling about it.

“No.” The guy repeats Dan’s word, only it sounds sadder from his tongue, and Dan shakes his head.

“No, the party’s a shitshow and I’d rather _not_ go back just yet,” he clarifies, doing his best to lock eyes with the guy. But something about the shadows there makes it near impossible, and he finds himself glancing down to the guy’s lips hardly a moment later; they curl up into a smirk that almost looks more _reassured_ than self-assured.

And then the guy’s hand finally meets Dan’s cheek, cool and soft and gentler than he expected, and he leans into the touch. His gaze stays on the guy’s lips, though, until they’re too close to see properly, until he’s left only with the option of letting his eyes fall shut and holding his breath in anticipation of whatever’s about to happen.

The lips that meet Dan’s are just as cool as the hand holding him in place, and just as soft; his own fingers trail up the guy’s sides, over the soft material of the jumper and across his back, giving just enough pressure to encourage the guy closer, to close the gap between them.

Whatever Dan’s done, it seems to break some spell - he’s suddenly being crushed against the rough bark behind him, and the guy’s hand travels from resting on his cheek to gripping the back of his neck to pull him closer. A silly, unimportant part of his brain is thankful for the warmth of another body, but the vast majority of it remains utterly blank, lost in the sensations.

For a while, it’s all Dan can do to match the guy’s movements, his tongue swiping against Dan’s lips and requesting entrance that Dan’s more than happy to provide, but then he’s gone entirely; Dan leans into the emptiness, desire drawing him blindly forward in the hopes of capturing the lips that’ve disappeared.

Before he gets much of anywhere, though, fingers wind up into his hair and tug him back, holding him in place; he sucks in a breath, eyes flying wide in an attempt to properly assess the situation - there’s still that feeling in the back of his mind that something about this is _wrong_ , but everything turns to deep shades of black the moment the guy’s lips find his neck and he lets his eyes drift shut.

Then there’s nothing for a while, nothing aside from the wet warmth of a mouth on Dan’s skin, sucking and biting and leaving marks Dan can’t be bothered to care about. Nothing aside from the grip in his hair tilting his head back, holding him in place. Nothing aside from the heat replacing every ounce of chill, settling under his skin and leaving him panting, desperately holding back the noises his throat wants to make in response to every single spot the guy's touching him.

And then the warmth moves lower, the lips disappear and the guy’s hands slide down Dan's chest, leaving trails of fire on their way to the waistband of Dan’s jeans. They pause there, and Dan manages to tell his eyes to open, to look down and properly attempt to understand what's going on.

The guy's knelt down in front of him, knees on either side of Dan's feet; his fingers slip under the thick material of Dan's jeans, brushing his skin and sending a shiver up his spine, and Dan's suddenly quite glad he's got a fucking tree supporting him or he's sure he'd have collapsed to the ground by now.

He watches as the guy looks up through thick lashes, a movement so slow and dark Dan could swear they're moving through molasses; a part of him _wants_ to collapse, to join this guy on the ground and do whatever the fuck it is he wants to do, _anything_ he wants so long as he keeps looking at Dan like that, keeps his hands on Dan's body and keeps setting his heart to racing. Hell, the guy could probably pull his heart from his chest and he'd _thank_ him, so long as he did it with those slightly parted lips, those pale blue eyes, those deft and careful fingers that keep playing at the edge of Dan's jeans.

" _Fuck,_ " slips off Dan's tongue before he can think better of it, but it earns him a smirk from the guy; then those fingers undo the button of his jeans, free his cock from the confines of the restrictive material. Well, _almost_ \- his pants haven't gone anywhere, though he's starting to wish they would.

Or maybe he isn't - a blast of icy air makes its way through the thin layer of fabric and he shivers again, suddenly not at all a fan of the 'autumnal vibes' and 'cool weather' he'd normally be so thrilled to appreciate. No, right now he could use-

"Sh- _shit,_ fuck," Dan mumbles when the guy's mouth ends up less than an inch from his cock, breathing a hot breath against him in place of the cold; Dan's hand finds the guy's hair, sliding his fingers into it just to have something solid to hold onto.

It's hard to tell, but the fast breaths that follow - that brush against him and make his knees fucking wobble - feel quite a lot like breaths of laughter.

Dan bites his lip against a moan the moment a hand slides into his pants and pulls out his aching cock; it's the first real, proper contact, and he's barely got the self-control to keep himself together, to stop from thrusting into the slightest bit of friction. In an attempt to regain a modicum of control - and, perhaps, some sanity as well - he tilts his head back against the tree, grips a little tighter into the guy's hair, curls his toes in his shoes.

He can't place it, exactly, but there's something immensely hot about a really attractive stranger dropping to his knees in front of Dan, doing-

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Dan's sure he's never been quite this vocal, but he's also pretty sure new situations warrant new behavior, and a complete stranger’s tongue swirling over the head of his cock is _pretty fucking new._ A gasp of a breath escapes his lips when the wet warmth disappears, when cool air licks over the spot with ice.

"If you're- _fuck_ , if you're gonna do that, just- don't _stop_ ," Dan manages to get out between uneven breaths, pressing his hands back against the tree for added support - his knees have given up entirely, he's sure, although he can't quite feel anything aside from the warm breath returning to brush against his cock in the moment before the guy wraps his mouth around Dan's length and sinks down until Dan's nudging the back of his throat.

 _This_ elicits an entire string of curses from Dan's tongue that he can't even properly recall, although he's left with the impression that at least a few hadn't even been real words. His fingers - filled with a desperate energy to _move_ , to _do_ something _-_ thread through the guy's hair again, tugging lightly in time with his movements over Dan's cock.

There's still that bothersome thought in the back of Dan's head, even now, that suggests something feels _off_ about this, that it speaks of something just too unusual, but the guy hollows his cheeks, lets his teeth graze Dan's skin with each movement, and he forgets what exactly he'd been worried about a moment ago.

The guy doesn't let up, either, not even when Dan's breathy curses turn high-pitched and keening, not even when the sane piece of his mind - growing smaller with every movement - tells him he's likely hurting the guy, pulling too hard on his hair. But if the guy seems at all bothered, he has a real fucking funny way of showing it.

Or maybe that's his goal, to torture Dan; he pulls off Dan's cock with a pop, and the cold air leaves Dan sucking in a breath, fighting his urge to pull the guy's head back - although, to be fair, he hasn't actually left. A moment later, his tongue licks a stripe up Dan's length and over the slit, catching the bit of precome leaking there, and a low moan escapes Dan's throat.

Really, it's almost unfair - he's no idea why any of this is happening, who this guy is, or even where he came from, but he's giving the best head Dan's ever gotten; what's he meant to do after this? Ask his number? Ask him on a _date_?

A wet warmth envelops his cock again, and his mind goes hazy and starry, a match for the sky above them.

In spite of the chill in the air, heat coils in his stomach, low and tightening with every passing second. His hips twitch in a desperate attempt to get just that little bit deeper, to bring himself a step closer to the edge, and the guy's free hand - the one not expertly matching his mouth at the base of Dan's cock - presses hard into Dan's hip, holding him still against the tree with an unexpected strength.

Just as that familiar feeling settles low in his stomach, that need to _chase_ his high - the time when, had he been alone, he'd need that extra sensation of his fingers inside himself to give him that final push - the guy pulls off _completely_ , and Dan's mind jumps once again to the word 'torture'.

His hips buck forward even as he bites out a hiss against the cold air, and his head whips down to find the guy settled back on his heels, eyes wide and _wicked_ and a smirk on his lips that says he knew exactly what he was doing, he knew _exactly_ how close Dan had been. He exhales a shaky breath - not that he'd _meant_ it to be shaky, he'd been going for annoyed or possibly even pissed off, but he's still _so fucking close_ , so _dangerously_ close to the edge that he wants nothing more than to jump.

And, _fine,_ he decides maybe he'll just have to cope and jump on his own; he releases his death grip on the guy's hair - which, in spite of being pulled in every direction and mussed up completely, actually still looks fucking _hot -_ and reaches for his throbbing cock, intent on at least _attempting_ to provide himself some relief.

The guy catches his hand mid-air, holding tight at the wrist in a way that Dan knows won't leave a mark but also leaves him no room to pull free. And _now_ fear bubbles up again, and he's suddenly cursing every fucking brain cell in his head that had somehow thought a blowjob in the middle of the forest from a complete stranger had sounded like a _good_ and _safe_ idea.

He's half a second away from making a break for it when the guy's grip loosens, when he lifts his gaze to Dan's again; every muscle in Dan's body stills as he watches the guy tilt his head, a slow movement matched with a slow curling of his lips, until he's sort of sideways and smirking up at Dan and Dan's not sure why he ever wanted to leave to begin with.

And then - because Dan really can't convince any part of his body to move - he watches as the guy leans forward, wraps his lips around the head of Dan's cock, slides down slowly, and _never fucking breaks eye contact._ It's hot and languid and _far_ worse than what he'd been doing before, it's the embers of a fire burning in his core in place of the raging flames he'd felt earlier, a painful build up from where he'd been.

It's absolutely torture, and Dan wonders what kind of god he's pissed off to end up here, in the middle of a forest being sucked off by a complete stranger who's so intent on making him _suffer._

And then there's the lightest scrape of teeth again, and a tongue swirling around the head of his cock, and he's wondering what exactly he has to do to get this kind of punishment again - fire flares up, burning and sending him closer and closer to the edge, and then he's right back where he was before, fingers curled into the guy's hair and lip bitten against a keening moan and hips held still to keep him from moving and it's almost enough.

 _Almost_.

" _Fuck_ , I'm- c-close, I'm-" Dan sputters out, praying the guy gets the message, does something - _anything_ \- to get him there; he can feel his legs trembling, done with holding him up and desperate for his release. Everything feels wound tight, like a single wire snapping would unravel everything, if he could just-

And then the guy's fucking _humming_ around Dan's cock, sending soft vibrations up his length with each movement, and Dan’s fingers tighten in the guy's hair as he drops his head back against the tree - forget falling over the edge, he's apparently taking a fucking _running jump_ , the way this feels right now.

He doesn't even get the chance to attempt a warning before everything explodes, before the sky splits open and everything catches fire - he honestly doesn't remember anything for some period of time, only fireworks behind his eyelids and sparks dancing across his skin as he comes hard, whimpering at the way the guy swallows around him.

It takes Dan a _very_ long time to realize he's sat on the ground, cleaned up and tucked back into his jeans and surprisingly _warm_. It takes another ten seconds after that to figure out he's wrapped up in someone's arms, and another five to recognize the dark jumper of the guy - the _stranger_ \- who'd just- yeah, who'd just done _that_ , and now they're cuddling. In the middle of a forest. Dan's pretty sure he's gone and lost his mind.

He wonders if that's why they call it a mind-blowing orgasm.

"You should probably get back to the party, your friends will be missing you," the guy says, voice low and soft and not sounding at all like he wants Dan to leave. Or maybe Dan’s just projecting, as he’s certainly feeling no desire to get up and walk back to some horrible group of drunks and pretend he’s enjoying himself. 

“I’d rather stay.” Dan’s voice comes out hoarse and low, something like a whisper. Like an admission. The guy coughs out a laugh, rubs his hand up and down Dan’s arm. It’s soothing, gentle, and Dan lets his eyes drift shut.

“Would you really?” The guy asks, his tone matching Dan’s. Maybe softer, the way it blends with the rustle of leaves in the cool night breeze. If Dan had any proper energy, he’d probably laugh. But he doesn’t.

“Mm,” he hums as he nods into the guy’s chest, eyes still closed. 

“What’s your name?” The guy asks, his voice a little louder now, a little higher. Dan has to suppress another urge to giggle at the absurdity of it all - he’s in the arms of a complete stranger, a person who doesn’t even know his _name_ , and he’d still prefer to stay here than go back to the party with all his ‘friends’ - for some reason, Dan’s sure if he said that word aloud, it’d taste bitter on his tongue.

“Dan.” He says instead. “Yours?”

“Your _real_ name,” the guy pointedly avoids answering. A part of Dan’s mind says that should be considered _strange_ , probably, but he doesn’t really want to consider it much at all.

“Daniel.” He mumbles. Nobody calls him that.

“That’s it, just Daniel?”

“Howell. What, you want my middle name, too? _Daniel James Howell_ , will that do?” He’s aware he’s grumbling now, though it doesn’t stop him turning his head further into the guy’s chest. There’s a huff of breath above him that sounds quite a lot like laughter, then a soft pressure against his head, and _that_ feels a lot like a kiss.

“Daniel James Howell, are you sure you’d like to stay here with me?” The guy asks, but his question sounds stilted. Wrong. A little fuzzy in Dan’s ears. Except he feels fuzzy all over, if he’s honest, and he quite likes that feeling.

“I’d like it better if I knew your name,” he counters, which earns him another soft chuckle into his hair. He still doesn’t feel like opening his eyes, so he imagines the soft smile he’s sure has graced the incredibly talented lips above him.

“You can call me Phil, how’s that?” The laughter’s carried through into the guy’s tone. _Phil’s_ tone. Dan shivers, though he doesn’t feel particularly cold.

“Phil.” Dan says as he leans a little more into his chest. Phil’s chest. He quite likes the sound of Phil’s name.

“Will you stay, then?” Phil asks again, but it sounds softer now, like he’s asking if Dan’s alright, if Dan had a nice day, if Dan is _happy_. It’s a lot of questions rolled up in one, Dan thinks.

“I’ll stay.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading, lovelies! feel free to give it a cheeky [reblog on tumblr](https://knlalla.tumblr.com/post/179621789297/dark-purple-sky-darkness-comes-out-to-play-a)
> 
> hope y'all enjoyed and have a very happy halloween!


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